Eb Griper for Governor

Country Roads

Arvid Huisman

huismaniowa@gmail.com

There he sat in his favorite coffee shop booth, all by his lonesome and writing on a yellow legal pad. Ebeneezer Griper was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear me approach.

“Writing your autobiography?” I kidded as I slid into the booth. My irascible old buddy jerked with surprise, skidding his pencil across the page.

“For crying out loud,” Eb snapped, “don’t you have any respect for a working man?”

“Sorry, Eb,” I replied. “I didn’t mean to mess up your work. What are you working on?”

“A platform.”

“To drill for oil?”

Eb looked at me over his glasses. “No, stupid, a platform rocker. If you need to know, I’m working on a political platform. I’m running for governor next year. “

“Really? What led to this decision?”

Eb fiddled with his pencil a few seconds and then leaned back. “Daylight Savings Time,” he said.

“What’s your problem now? Not enough daylight?”

“No, dummy! I couldn’t get to sleep Sunday night because of that ‘spring forward/fall back’ baloney. As I was lying there listening to Hilda snore I got to thinking that Iowa voters are ready for a real grass roots candidate like me. You know, someone who calls a spade a spade and who doesn’t kiss anyone’s hind end.”

“Well, Eb, you seem to have a good handle on your image. All this stuff you’ve written here ̶ this is your platform?”

“Yep, want to hear what I stand for?”

“I can’t wait.”

Eb adjusted his eyeglasses on his nose and reviewed what he had written. “First of all,” he began, “if I am elected governor I will work to require year ’round daylight savings time. This switching back and forth is a bunch of baloney. My appetite stays on the old time for several weeks and that really makes me irritable.”

“So far,” I replied, “I agree with you, Eb. What else is on that list?”

“Next, I’m going to work to revise our educational system. I believe there should be schools for kids who want to learn and boot camps for kids who want to be jerks. We’ll put our best teachers and resources into the schools for kids who want to learn. The boot camps will provide training in how to be a decent human being. And there will be night classes in how to be a decent person for parents of jerks who act like bigger jerks defending their little jerks’ jerkiness.”

“You may be on to something, Eb; what’s next?”

“As your governor, I will work to reduce all speed limits to 45 miles per hour or less.”

“My gosh, Eb, you’ll be impeached! What in the world are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking life is moving too fast these days. Everyone needs to slow down. If we were all driving 45 or less we’d have a chance to actually see each other in our cars and trucks and would be less inclined to use obscene gestures and shout rude things to each other. And we’d see the beautiful things we often miss while driving faster ̶ like newborn calves and Studebaker pick-ups. Besides, the cops will have a heyday with speeders and with all the fines we collect we can reduce property taxes.”

“Eb,” I responded, “you have a knack for making the most preposterous things seem reasonable. I’m almost afraid to ask what else is rolling around in your skull.”

“Well, the only other thing I’ve come up with so far is a ‘stupid tax.'”

“A lot of taxes are stupid, Eb, but I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s simple ̶ if someone does something stupid they have to pay a tax. The higher the offender’s IQ, the more the tax. So called ‘smart’ people should do less stupid stuff.”

He had me scratching my head now. “Eb, I get upset when people do stupid things, too, but this would require major revisions of the Iowa code. What do you consider criminally stupid?”

A wicked grin spread across Eb’s face. “As it stands right now, I think the most stupid thing anyone could do would be to not contribute to my Griper for Governor campaign fund.”